


Coda

by skripka



Category: Firefly
Genre: (woo), Episode Tag, Episode: s01e07 Jaynestown, M/M, gratuitous medicine, gratuitous snark, porn!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-15
Updated: 2004-07-15
Packaged: 2019-10-26 19:18:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17751902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skripka/pseuds/skripka
Summary: Are you here to trash my infirmary again?





	Coda

Simon woke, his eye twitching and his cheek stinging. He sighed, and rolled out of bed. Rolling his shoulders, he frowned at the ache deep down in his muscles. Stitch Hessian had done a damned good job beating him up. Kaylee was right; he needed to be "steely," whatever that meant. It wasn't that he enjoyed getting beaten, but, unlike Mal and Jayne and Zoe, he seemed to have no clue how to avoid it.

In the meantime, he needed some pain meds.

A swipe of his hand over the light switch, and Simon blinked in the garish light of the infirmary. He sighed, and took the four steps over to the counter. There hadn't been a chance to do more than a cursory clean-up after Jayne's attack earlier, and the drawers weren't nearly as organized as they needed to be. It was a wonder that he hadn't needed anything more than a few butterfly bandages and a weave or two after that incident in Canton. 

Simon stared at the contents of the open drawer. Pain meds galore, although not nearly the variety he would have liked. He made a mental note to ask Mal about that next time they got closer to the core. Simon picked up a nearly-empty bottle of Merocaine and a small vial of Soprapan and considered. The Soprapan was stronger and would definitely stop the throbbing in his arm, but was likely to knock him out, rendering him useless in case of an emergency, whereas the Merocaine would keep him lucid for a bit longer, but might just dull the pain. 

He stood weighing the options, trying to decide if he was going to be able to get back to sleep, when there was a shuffle at the doorway. Simon turned, and sighed when Jayne walked in. "Are you here to trash my infirmary again?"

Jayne didn't react to Simon's acerbic tone; he just frowned and said, "Weren't really planning on it. Anyway, it's Mal's infirmary. You just work here."

Simon glared at the mercenary ineffectively. "Be that as it may, I'm the medic. Are you here for a reason?"

Jayne stepped over to where Simon was standing, and looked over the doctor's shoulder. "What you got there?" He grabbed Simon's wrist, and tried turning the bottle over to read it. "That any good for tummy problems?"

Simon yanked his hand away. "No, as a matter of fact, this would not be good for stomach issues. It's actually contraindicated." He shoved Jayne in the direction of the examination table. "Are you sick or just here to annoy me?"

Jayne sat down heavily. "Got a bellyache," he mumbled, looking down at his feet which swung desultorily in the air.

Simon stopped the motion with a strong grip on Jayne's knees, causing Jayne to look him in the face. "Did you eat anything funny on that moon?"

"Don't remember."

Simon sighed in frustration. Dealing with Jayne was like dealing with a four year old. "Can you describe the pain?" 

"Well, ya see, it's kinda twisty in my gut," Jayne shrugged. Simon's hands grew warm. He prodded for more information.

"Any nausea?"

"Huh?"

"Have you wanted to throw up?" he clarified. 

"Nah. Not really. Just...kinda achy." Jayne's morose look gave Simon a clue.

He pounced on it. "Are you actually feeling guilty about that mudder kid?"

Jayne pulled away, stung, and then his face became cloudy. "He had a name."

"I'm sure. I never got to officially meet him." Simon studied Jayne's face. "Jayne, I imagine what you are feeling right now is a combination of reaction to adrenaline and a guilty conscience." He frowned. "At least, as much guilt as I imagine you could possibly feel."

Jayne rose to his considerable height, and towered over Simon. "Was that a crack?"

Simon backed away a bit. "No, just an observation. I'm surprised you can deal with guilt, considering your occupation."

The mercenary frowned. "Ya don't think much of me, do ya, Doc?"

"I try not to think of you at all," Simon replied haughtily, turning back to his medicines. Jayne lingered; Simon felt his eyes on his neck.

"You think about me plenty when you call me names." Jayne's voice had a petulant note.

"It doesn't take much brain power to come up with a suitable insult for you, Jayne." Simon turned, arms crossed, and glared at the big man.

"You called me a monkey."

"I called you an ape. There's a difference."

"Uh huh." Definitely pouting there, Simon realized. He sighed, and tried again to convince Jayne to go away.

"Look, Jayne. I'm really not in the mood to be making nice with you. I hurt; I want to take my medicine and go to bed."

"I just don't think it's fair that you get to insult me."

"Insult you? First off, an ape is a step up from what I should have called you. Secondly, when have you ever been nice to me?"

Jayne's lip poked out a bit. "I'm nice to you plenty."

Simon shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal. "Fine. You're 'plenty' nice to me." He looked in the cabinet and pulled out a tube of Dramalox pills. "Two of these will help you feel somewhat better and put you to sleep." 

The vial looked ridiculously small in Jayne's hand, but he just glanced at it before staring at Simon, an intent look on his face. "Are you sly?" he suddenly burst out.

"What?" Simon's mouth opened and paused for a moment, before closing in astonishment.

"Thing is," Jayne stated, "you was all cuddled up nicely with Kaylee in that bar. But she weren't so pleased with you in the morning. So, I'm figuring either you did her and she didn't get off, or you didn't barely touch her."

It took a moment for Simon to decipher Jayne's convoluted sentence structure. When he did, he blushed, and sputtered, "I respect Kaylee too much..."

Jayne interrupted, "But you don't respect me, right?"

Simon was appalled at himself. He was finding it tricky to keep up with Jayne's thought processes. "What does that have to do with anything?"

The big man counted out on his fingers. "You respect Kaylee, you won't have sex with her. You might be sly, and you don't respect me." Jayne shrugged. "Figured I might get some sexing out of this deal."

Simon blinked in astonishment. "What deal? There was no deal, Jayne."

"Bet I could make you come," Jayne smirked.

Simon gaped.

The wall of muscle approached; Simon backed off for safety. He ended up against the counter, Jayne leering and looming over him. Simon stared at Jayne's mouth as he said, "Bet you'd like it, too."

A few words tumbled around in Simon's brain as possible retorts. Words like _definitely not_ and _no_ and _go away_. None of them seemed to make it past the realization that Jayne smelled really good. Warm, spicy, soapy, and very, very...masculine.

A large finger traced the edge of the bandage and dragged across Simon's cheek, surprisingly gentle. Simon managed not to wince or shiver in anticipation, but when Jayne's hand slipped under his chin to pull it up, his mouth opened slightly and his breath caught.

"Stitch did a number on ya, didn't he?" Jayne's brow furrowed. "Did you fight back at least?"

The mild concern in Jayne's voice startled Simon almost more than the touch did. He managed to gather his wits about him enough to sputter indignantly, "Of course I fought back!" Jayne merely grunted in reply, and cupped his jaw. 

When Jayne didn't remove his hand right away, Simon felt his skin growing hot. He sucked in an unsteady breath when the mercenary's fingers slid down his neck and began fingering the collar of his shirt. "Um, Jayne..." he began, silently cursing the slight tremble in his voice. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Figurin' out some things." Jayne's eyes were blue, and Simon watched carefully as the pupils dilated. Part of him was saying to move and get the hell away, but he found himself glued in place. His skin tingled with anticipation.

"Like...figuring out what, Jayne?" he stammered.

"Figurin' out how to unwind you." And with that, Jayne slithered his hand down Simon's bare chest, and landed on his crotch. Simon jumped and gasped as Jayne began to rub rhythmically. "See, Doc? You're way too high strung."

Simon could only stare stunned at the hand gripping him. His penis, however, had no qualms, and hardened quickly. With a groan he closed his eyes, only to open them again at the blast of cool air on his groin. Jayne had fallen to his knees, and had pulled down Simon's pants partway, just enough to expose his erection.

Jayne shot Simon a glance that boded nothing good, or possibly everything good, then took a few swipes at the head of Simon's swollen cock with his tongue. Simon shuddered, and realized he was getting white knuckled from griping the counter. He tried to relax, but had no chance when Jayne swallowed him whole.

Simon's brain was currently residing mostly in his dick. His dick was currently residing mostly in Jayne's mouth. Which was a concept he was having trouble dealing with. He watched in slack-jawed fascination as Jayne sucked hard. No finesse, but then, Simon would never have put Jayne in the finesse club. It still felt damned good.

Sensations crowded on top of each other. Simon placed his hand on Jayne's hair, balancing himself and resisting thrusting into his mouth. Jayne peered up at Simon, and grinned around his cock as his hands reached around to grab Simon's ass. He yanked hard, swallowed, and Simon groaned as he spilled down Jayne's throat.

His head lolled back, and Simon lost himself in the glow of orgasm. He came to when he felt Jayne stand up. The big man was wiping his lips with a nearly-satisfied smirk. Jayne leaned in, took one of Simon's hands, and unzipped his pants. "My turn," he said.

Jayne's hand covered Simon's; they both wrapped around Jayne's cock. He watched, bemused, as Jayne used Simon's hand to jack himself off. Hot flesh and velvety skin slid over his fingers as Jayne panted harder and moved faster. 

With a gasp and quiet curse, hot liquid covered the side of Simon's hand. Jayne's eyes closed, and he gently forced Simon to squeeze out the last bits of fluid. 

Simon could only watch and shiver in pleasure as Jayne pulled their linked hands to his mouth. The tongue that had so recently played over his cock roughly swiped over his palm, cleaning it of the viscous fluid. When Jayne let go, Simon's hand fell to his side, shocked and tingling.

One of Jayne's fingers traced along the margin of Simon's mouth, trailing a bit of leftover come. Simon's tongue darted out of its own volition to taste it. Salt, bitter and sweet. He looked up, startled, at Jayne's groan.

"You keep on doing that, Doc, and I may have to revise my rule about kissing on the mouth."

Simon recovered enough to make a sharp reply. "What makes you think you'll ever have another chance?"

Jayne wasn't offended; he just zipped up his pants and backed off. "Why, Doc. You seem more relaxed already," he smirked. Before he turned to leave, he added, "And my bunk's a mite more comfy than the infirmary. You know where you can find me."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Simon Tam ficathon, for sffan. Special thanks to my betas, Raynedanser, Becc, Sonya, Eleanor K., and to everyone who has listened to my random griping.


End file.
